


A Mess by Default

by des_oiseaux



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Anxiety, Cancer, F/F, Fluff, Happy ending for your nerves, Lesbian AU, Lesbian Witches, Mostly Queer Characters, Slow Burn, Some references to past drug abuse, Witches, not too serious though, the rest you figure out while reading I think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-14 13:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14136627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/des_oiseaux/pseuds/des_oiseaux
Summary: The world is full of magic, they say.Trixie begs to differ. She’s convinced the world is mainly full of douchebags, overpriced makeup and unfair destinies.Well, she’s in for a surprise.





	1. Honey and The International Day of Jump Scares

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! <3 just a quick note;  
> I wanted to contribute to this fandom which brings me so much joy, so this is from me to you all! (if you want it)  
> English is not my first language, but I’m giving this a go anyhow.  
> I hope you like it, and if you do, I’d love to hear from you! :)

*Thwoorp*

Trixie blinks slowly. 

She tries to take in, to understand, the scene in front of her. She shakes her head, closes her eyes, and counts to ten. One deep breath in. Then one out. Repeat. This is a dream. A very weird dream conjured by the stress she has been under recently. That has got to be the case. 

Yet, when she slowly opens her eyes again, nothing has changed. She's still in her classroom at her beauty school. She's still standing in front of a tall makeup stool, with a fluffy brush in her hand. And most frighteningly, on the stool there is still a tiny jar of honey. This would be slightly odd under any circumstances, but is now very suspicious, considering that just a couple of seconds ago a fellow classmate had sat on that very stool. 

*Thwoorp**Flap**Flap**Flap*

That sound again. Trixie looks around and tries to spot where the sound is coming from. She suddenly notices to her surprise that it's coming from a young woman standing in front of her. The woman is holding a big, red fan which is likely the cause of the sound. And Trixie could have sworn that that woman wasn't there three seconds ago. The woman is short, but still intimidating. She's looking at the honey jar with her piercing green-blue eyes, seemingly unfazed, but with a slight interest. Now she pulls her phone out of her bra and dials a number. She sends Trixie an apologetic smile while she waits for the person to pick up. 

"Yeah, Shea, you better come over here," she says into the phone while she flaps her fan calmly. Her beautiful half-long, blonde hair stirs with each flap.

"No, I'm not going to panic, because um- I don't do that anymore," is the last thing Trixie hears before everything turns black. 

***  
Dreams are wonderful, aren't they? Sometimes they give you everything you never dared to wish for. Sometimes they give you something you always knew you wanted. And sometimes they give you honey. Oh honey. Lots of honey. Golden and sweet. And then the satisfaction of watching it drip. The miracle bees manage to pull off. The sweetness and the softness on your tongue. Opening a cute tiny jar of the magical substance. And-

Andrew?! 

Trixie is driven out of her sickeningly sweet dream when a picture of her classmate Andrew suddenly takes over her subconsciousness. And now it’s all coming back to her. She just screwed up. She screwed up beyond the laws of nature. She turned her classmate into a jar of fucking honey. Shit. 

She opens her eyes and peels off her now dangling false lashes. She’s sitting on an old, purple velvet sofa that is sinking slightly under her weight. The room around her is dimly lit by an abundance of wax candles. The light flickers across the old wooden floor and barely illuminates the rest of the room. The walls are made of weathered bricks and all rise up towards a domed ceiling. Right across from the velvet sofa is a chair, in which a-

"Shit!" 

Trixie can't stop herself from yelling. 

"What is this, the international day of jump scares?"

The woman Trixie just noticed sitting in the chair opposite of her gives her a rueful smile. She has long, wavy orange hair that looks slightly wet and she is wearing a long, shapeless black dress that almost touches the floorboards. Trixie is quite sure the woman is barefoot. Strange. 

"Hi, there, Trixie," the woman says and straightens her back. 

Trixie turns around on the plump pillows of the sofa so that she faces the woman. 

"Why am I not surprised that you know my name?" Trixie asks her candidly. "Never mind, the real question is what the fuck happened and where am I?"

The woman smiles at her, and there is a beautiful twink in her eyes. 

"My name is Jinkx Monsoon, and I am- well let’s just say I’m the boss here,” she laughs to herself before she points a finger at Trixie. “And you're gonna have an epiphany. You’ve felt like you’ve never fitted in. For sure, right?” She doesn’t show any sign that Trixie should respond, and goes on. “And there’s a reason for that, Trixie,” she folds her hands and looks intensely into Trixie’s eyes. Her eyes just linger on hers for a moment before she continues.

“You’re a witch, Trixie.”

***

"Wait a second—what did you call me?" 

Trixie is staring at this Jinkx-woman now and considers her situation for a moment. Who does this woman think she is? You can't just kidnap people and then offend them straight to their faces. Trixie rises from the couch. 

"This is a whole load of bullshit. And also quite illegal, I imagine," she says as she makes her way towards the door of the room. Enough is enough. She grips the door handle. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Jinkx days with a trace of laughter in her voice.

“Why should I listen to you?” Trixie says through gritted teeth as she brings down the door handle. It won’t budge. 

Jinkx snaps her fingers where she sits and suddenly the door disappears altogether. 

“Because you’ll be in big trouble without my help.”

***

“So I’m a witch? As a sorta-adult-grown woman I’ve just turned into a witch?” Trixie says in disbelief and rubs her eyes. Her makeup must be ruined by now.

“No, no, you’ve always had the magic in you, you’ve always been a witch, something just triggered the magic, and now you will be able to use your power at will,” Jinkx pauses and takes a look at Trixie, who is struggling to figure out which incident might have triggered this.  
“Which incident doesn’t matter to us, you can figure that out for yourself."

"This is some real-life Harry Potter shit, isn't it?" Trixie asks, half-jokingly. 

"There are a lot of facts in Harry Potter, Trixie. We don't use wands though, that was a bit silly." Jinkx answers, dead serious.

"For now, I think I’ll show you around the building if you don’t mind?” 

Trixie, currently both alarmed and mystified nods and follows Jinkx as she sets off toward the now reappearing door. 

***

They step into a corridor that resembles the room they just left. The floor is of the same wooden material, but the walls are made of a cream coloured stone. The walls seem slightly uneven, like they’re considering caving in at any moment now. The same wax candles flicker where they stand in small niches. The corridor is lined with doors, leading off to who knows what. 

Jinkx turns right and at the end of the corridor she starts ascending a rickety staircase. She barely touches the stairs, and almost floats upwards, while Trixie has to cling to the railing not to fall. She tries to avoid looking down as they go higher and higher. When they finally reach the top, after passing a couple of floors, Trixie lets out a long breath. 

They are standing in a small circular room, and in front of them are five different doors. Jinkx turns around and smiles at Trixie. 

“All right, so this house is the base of the organisation AQW+, which stands for Association for Queer Witches+,” she goes on, and clearly doesn’t notice Trixie’s nonplussed expression. “We have several different departments to help out, and also give work to, queer witches and the magic people who make out the plus in our name.” 

After finishing her long sentence she turns around and beckons Trixie to follow her. She opens the door second from the left and they pass through together.

The room they have contrasts the other rooms Trixie has visited strongly. The ceiling is low, and the walls are painted a light yellow. The walls are covered with a bunch of small windows, placed seemingly at random. The room between the windows are covered by children’s drawings. Two large wooden desks take up most of the floor space, but brightly coloured toys lie around. 

Behind one of the desks sits a large dark skinned woman, who, even though she’s just reading through some papers, seems lovely. Behind the other desk sits a much younger woman, about Trixie’s age. The girl is talking to a woman seated on an old scrawny chair that barely fits between the desks. 

“-and as a witch who is a MOTHER, I think I deserve this resting aid! Won’t you young lady stop it with the shenanigans, buffoonery and rigamores.” 

The woman in the chair looks very invested in the conversation. 

Jinkx coughs loudly and the three women look up simultaneously. 

“Hello, women! I’m showing Trixie around a bit. Thought I’d start in this beautiful department!”

“This is the family and marriage department. This is Latrice,” Jinkx points to the lovely woman, who gives Trixie a warm smile. “And this is Pearl, who is more of an all-around employee. She has a gift for-um- sleep, you see.” Pearl smiles lazily and pulls her hand through her short, blonde hair. 

“Usually, Tempest is here, but she’s taking some days of. Family time!” 

“And this is Alyssa Edwards. An old friend of ours.” 

The woman in the chair Jinkx is referring to looks Trixie up and down and nods thoughtfully. She looks regal, yet not very serious.

“Yes,” Alyssa says and nods her chin back a bit while she points her finger at Pearl, “and you are going to give this old friend some sleeping aid,” she says is her Texan accent. 

Jinkx laughs to herself as she starts crossing the room to a short door at the far end. 

When they’ve entered the room beyond, Trixie turns around to close the door behind her. To her surprise, the door is now tall, black and modern. The “new” door shuts and the noise from the conversation they just left is instantly muted. 

The ceiling of this room is a lot higher than in the family department, Trixie notices. The room is also a lot more modern. One of the walls is made of glass, and through it Trixie can see the late March sun almost setting behind the buildings surrounding this one. Two big desks of black, polished wood are facing the window-wall. On the desks are normal desk stuff; computers, filers, succulents, pens, and such. Behind the desks are two light grey office chairs. One of them is occupied by a person, and Jinkx is moving towards them. 

"Hi, Bob! I hope you're doing okay! This is Trixie, I'm showing her around." Jinkx turns to Trixie. "Trixie, this is Bob. They're non-binary, one of our amazing magic-people. They work at this department, obviously. This is the law-aid department, and Bob here is an excellent lawyer!" 

Bob smiles at Trixie. They're bald, with a somehow masculine, yet androgynous face. Trixie smiles back at them.

"Where's Max, Bob?" Jinkx asks. 

"Ah, she's gone home. She's probably watchin' some law and order right now." 

Trixie notes to herself that Bob probably will make her laugh a lot. They seem like they've got some jokes up their sleeve. 

"You'll meet Max someday soon, I expect," Jinkx says to Trixie, as she starts making it for the second door in the room. 

"Good working, Bob! Go home before it gets too late, though! We don't want you to get overworked again!" Jinkx yells over her shoulder as they pass through to the next room. 

***

The next room they enter is slightly chaotic.  
The walls are three different colours, so Trixie concentrates on focusing her attention to one corner of the room at a time. 

Trixie is immediately drawn to the first corner they turn to, since it's painted a light pink colour. Sure, Trixie would rock a hotter pink, but it's still nice. The floor is covered in a soft carpet. There is a high-fashion wooden desk with golden legs, and behind it is a furry, white office chair. An incredibly beautiful young woman is lounging behind the desk. She's painting her nails white, and her dark, long hair is falling carelessly around her. Her desk space is taken up by old-fashioned pink and white phones, and Trixie notices that a baseball bat is leaned against a pouf beside her chair.  
She looks up, and she doesn't seem surprised in the slightest that Trixie and Jinkx are now in her office space.  
She "Hey-s" at them and manages to be nonchalant without seeming hostile. 

"So, Trixie, this is Shea. Shea, this is Trixie," Jinkx gestures between them.

"Yeah, I know, I transported her drooling ass over here," Shea says and smirks a little. 

Trixie feels a little self-conscious about this, but Shea doesn't seem judgemental.

"Hi there, you must be Trixie." 

Trixie jumps a little, for what must be the 17th time today, as she notices another woman who has just come up behind her. 

“I’m Sasha!” 

The woman who just spoke to Trixie is bald and looks like a wonderful piece of art. Her makeup is on point, her winged eyeliner dangerously sharp. She holds her hand out, and Trixie shakes it.

“Don’t listen to Shea, she’s just jealous of your beautiful hair!” She smiles and walks over to her co-worker, who laughs at her with warmth in her eyes. 

Trixie looks to her left, at what she gathers must be Sasha's office. The colours from this part of the room are basically screaming for attention. The walls are deep red and covered in paintings and drawings. Behind the mahogany desk is a hot pink chair that looks like some super-villain could have rested in in some bond movie. A super villain with a pink taste, that is. Sasha's office isn't as neat as Shea's, there are papers and pens and even paintbrushes (why? Trixie has no idea) lying between more old-fashioned phones. A bouquet of roses is placed randomly at the middle of the desk. Still the whole office looks like a painting.

"Are you enjoying the sight?" Sasha calls out from where she is resting on Shea's pouf. 

Trixie smiles and nods. She's usually not this bashful. She's a leo, she can handle new people. Still something about this day is making her head very dizzy. Well, she does realise that isn't really that weird. 

"SASHA YOU STOLE MY REDBULL YOU BITCH!"

This time Trixie almost topples over.

How come she didn't expect this? 

Oh wait, maybe because it's not that common to suddenly have another person you don't know appear 10 inches in front of you. 

"Fuck. Sorry. I'm not that precise at this teleporting-jush," the woman in front of her says. 

That is the same woman from earlier, Trixie realizes. 

And she is _very_. _Hot_. 

***

The hot woman rants to Sasha about her redbull for a solid ten minutes before returning to Trixie.

"I'm Krista Ball, by the way," she says with a careless flick of her hair. Her expression is dead serious, almost cold.

Then she wheezes loudly and takes Trixie's hand in hers.

"I'm kidding, that's my drag name. My real name's Katya."

“But- can women do drag?” Trixie asks before she’s able to stop herself. 

“Yes gawd! Everyone can do drag! It’s art, bitch!” Katya answers enthusiastically.

Trixie is so mesmerised by this woman in her short mesh dress and her weird ice-cream cone shoes that she doesn’t notice when Jinkx comes over to them.

“This is Krisis Kontrol, and they were the ones who helped you out.” Jinkx says. Trixie drops Katya’s hand, just now realising that she’s been holding it for a little long.

“Oh-hm- yeah thanks.” Trixie feels her cheeks burn. All of a sudden she’s very self conscious about how she looks. Her makeup is definitely dead. Does this pink dress hug her curves too much? Her nail polish is chipped some places. At least her long, blonde hair usually looks flawless. 

Jinkx looks at her with a concerned look.

“Honey, I think you’re a little bit tired. This is a lot to take in. I think we’ll take you to a place where you can rest. You probably have an apartment-"  
Trixie almost laughs, because her "place" can barely be called an apartment, but she shuts her mouth.  
"-but we want to take extra care of you for some days. We rent a back-up room twenty minutes from here. Should these girls take you there?” 

Trixie is a little bit intimidated by the idea of these super hot, literally magical, young women taking her anywhere, but she nods.

“Wait, Trixie, come here, I need to get my fan!” 

Katya hurries over to the corner of the room Trixie has yet to discover. Trixie hesitates for a moment and then decides to follow her.

Katya’s office is a beautiful chaos. 

First of all, Trixie has to step between a tiny jungle of plants to get to the real office space. There is no desk, but on the floor is a large pillow and a bright purple yoga mat. Drawing supplies, files, folders and crumpled up papers are lying all over. On the light green wall is a poster for some movie Trixie hasn’t seen called Contact.

There are also a bunch of weird caricatures taped besides a triangular window. On the windowsill lies, oddly enough, a rubber chicken. A cabinet is standing near the wall with packs of cigarettes and what looks suspiciously like tarot cards placed on top of it. 

Katya scrambles gracefully around in the cabinet before she draws out a black lace fan. 

"Yes, this is fun! Let's go, Honey!" Katya smiles, the sight of her perfect, white teeth against her red lipstick sending a jolt of energy through Trixie. 

"I think Honey is your new nickname," Katya says and gives Trixie a wink.  
And just like that they're caught in a maelstrom of puffy clouds leading who knows where.


	2. Headaches and Getting Engaged to The Pizza Guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some seriousness in it, but so does life, Linda, so does life. This is a part of the story where I have loaned some backstory from my personal experience. The beginning of this chapter was a kinda tough to write, so I hope you appreciate the feelings I've poured out to make it. 
> 
> Don't worry, the very un-seriousness comes back in tenfold later!

Trixie wakes up with an emotional hangover. 

It's not the first time she has woken up with a headache and her eyes all red, but she feels tired as ever. Yesterday the three absurdly beautiful women showed her to a bare room in the apartment complex Jinkx referred to. The room is perfectly square and reminds her a lot of her college dorm. There’s nothing special about it really, except a weird smell of firecrackers and synthetic candy. 

Currently Trixie’s lying flat on her back, staring at the chipping paint in the ceiling, with her head pounding.  
She spent the late hours of last night thinking about the incident that must have led to this magic revelation. This contemplation brought heavy memories from six months back stinging in her mind. 

Six months ago, her teenage sister Jessica had got diagnosed with cancer. Trixie had just started beauty school back then, but as soon as she heard she’d hopped on a plane back to Milwaukee. Even though it was clear pretty early on that Trixie’s little sister would be fine, the next months were the opposite of easy. Turns out having someone you love be seriously ill really freakin’ burns you out. Still, it was important that Trixie and her family stayed strong too alongside their loved daughter and sister. You simply have to stay strong, that's the only solution. At times like that time just moves ahead, and you’ve just got to stick around. Keep breathing. And they had managed, somehow. 

At four o'clock last night Trixie had smelled the sterile and tight scent from the hospital, and she had revisited those very halls.  
During her sister's treatment she'd worked in a café near the Milwaukee River, and every day after she'd gotten off work she'd driven to the hospital. There she would sit by Jess's bed with her cheap guitar playing tunes she'd made just for her. Jess was strong enough to smile and chat with her. Sometimes she even sang along to the tunes she recognized. Yet, seeing her loved little sister get literal poison in her, the chemo making her skin a tinge of green, was rough. 

Their family didn't have a lot of money, which made the whole thing even harder. They all worked their asses off to try to pay the bills. Obviously, those months were heavy. She'd had some fights with her mother and brother, fights that just had to happen. Tension like that just builds up, and it's destined to get out somehow. On top of that, Trixie's anxiety had blossomed, and there were many sleepless nights. 

Nonetheless, they'd all managed. 

Jessica was now more beautiful than ever, with her short, auburn hair and a new confidence in her own strength.  
T  
he tears from last night were tears for the pain, yes, but also for the eventual relief. 

In spite of the relief, Trixie sort of feels like damaged goods. Damaged goods currently mending, though. Her soul is now very tired. 

"Trixie, you there?" 

A soft knock on the door brings Trixie out of her ceiling-staring, and she rises from the bed. 

"Yes," she calls to the door, wondering who this might be. She pauses for a moment on her way to the door, mulling over whether she should put on some more clothes. She's wearing a light pink nightgown and slippers that simply appeared at her bed last night. It's a pretty nightgown, so Trixie decides to go with it and opens the door. 

In front of her stands a gorgeous woman in a bright teal trench coat. She has really short, blonde hair, and the warmth in her smile comforts Trixie instantly. 

"Hey girl!" The woman says and reaches her hand out for Trixie to shake. Trixie takes it. 

"I'm Peppermint!" Trixie smiles and nods, but she must have looked a little confused, because Peppermint explains, "I am a transgender woman, so when I transitioned, I chose my own name. Peppermint! I work for the AQW+, I am a psychologist." Trixie feels like this Peppermint probably is a very good psychologist. 

"I'm here to discuss our next moves and answer your questions. You want to maybe go to a café? I'll wait here in the hallway, you just get dressed." 

*** 

After dressing up in a soft and warm pastel outfit that again magically appeared at her bed Trixie follows Peppermint out on the streets. 

They walk for about ten minutes till they arrive at a maroon building. The building is nestled between two beige houses and Trixie figures it has to be a café. Yet there are no signs or writing on the wall to assure her of this educated guess. Peppermint takes Trixie by the hand and leads her to the front door. 

Once inside they meet a small room, which is empty except for a fashionable vintage table. On top of the table is, stereotypically enough, a crystal ball.  
Peppermint places her hand on the crystal ball and then she mutters some words Trixie can’t make out. After just a couple of seconds a staircase simply starts winding down from the ceiling. Trixie takes a few steps back, blinking rapidly. Peppermint laughs and starts ascending the staircase. 

When Trixie pokes her head out at the top of the staircase she is met by a warm, light and crowded room. 

“Pep! Girl how are you today?” 

A middle aged woman with her hair in a long, black ponytail waves at Peppermint from where she’s making her way between tables while simultaneously balancing four plates in her hands and a couple of teacups hovering over her head. 

The morning light seeps trough the wide windows of the room so it looks like the wooden panels are glowing. Seemingly normal people are sitting around the tables, but the magic is easy enough to see. Self-stirring teacups, levitating plates and the eventual spark flying gives it away as not a completely ordinary café. 

“I’m great, thank you Dela!” Peppermint says to the woman who has now come over to them. “Trixie and I are both in dire need of some breakfast, could you help us out?” 

Dela shows them to a table besides one of the windows. Peppermint orders a coffee and some pastry Trixie can’t pronounce the name of. Trixie goes the safe route and orders a baguette and some strong tea. 

She enjoys sitting there, feeling the gentle warmth of the sunlight and watching the purple curtains stir in the breeze. 

“You go to beauty school?” Peppermint asks and places her hands on the table. It’s one of those questions where you know the person knows the answer, but they’d rather have you say it. 

“Well, yes, but they might not want a witch who turns people to honey around for long.” Trixie answers, a little regret tainting her voice. Peppermint's smiles softly. 

“I don’t think beauty school is the best place for a witch who turns people into honey anyways. The reality, Trixie, is that you’ll be having a lot to do with us from now on. We’ll give you education, help you find a job which suits your gift, to find a safe place to live. That’s what we’re here for you know. As a lesbian witch we are here for you.” 

Trixie rolls her shoulders and bites her lip till it hurts. Leaving beauty school and everything she worked for just like that? 

Peppermint's right, of course. She can't go back to her old life knowing she's a witch that can just turn people into jars of fucking honey. She takes a deep breath and smiles shakily. 

"Thank you, Peppermint. Now please, I guess there are a couple of things I should know?" 

*** 

Peppermint goes on to explain a whole bunch of stuff to Trixie, starting with answering her question about "How the heck" they could now she was gay. It boiled down to some absurd thing about a rainbow aura, but it was a start. From then Peppermint told her about how they had a better apartment for her, how she could work part-time at the AQW+ while taking her classes. She then goes on to explain what these classes are. 

"You'll be taking a few classes. You'll take spells, of course, which is really fun. You'll take some history of magic, and a couple of others. And-oh that's right, you'll have some time with a coach for your gift." 

While Peppermint is talking Trixie relaxes with the sunlight dancing over her, and she concentrates on the silver flicker on Peppermints tongue when she speaks. A piercing. Cool. She starts thinking of a pearl in a clam. Are pearls that expensive? She wouldn't know. That piercing is kind of like a pearl on her tongue. Do tongue piercings hurt? Do you notice they're there? Or- 

"So that's Katya's gift." 

Trixie goes rigid on the sound of Katya's name. She shakes her head as she realizes she has fallen completely out of the conversation. 

"Katya? What- uh- gift? Katya?" 

The corners of Peppermint's mouth twitch slightly, and Trixie feels her cheeks burning. She has an outstanding talent for both falling out of conversations and getting embarrassed.

"Every magic person has a gift. Something that they're especially good at. I was just telling you about the gifts of some of the witches you've met. Jinkx is- well Jinkx is a nymph actually. Sasha's good with plants and life, Shea's good with fire, and Katya," Peppermint gives her a wink, "is good at-hm- let us say- changing the surroundings."  
"We don't know what your gift is just yet, but we'll figure out." 

The rest of their breakfast Trixie tries not to gush about this girl she's so obviously, intrigued by, and she ends up learning quite a lot about this new reality of hers. 

*** 

After saying goodbye to Dela and the café, Trixie and Peppermint make their way to Trixie's "apartment" to pick up some stuff. When Peppermint had asked Trixie if she would want to move to a place more connected to the AQW+ Trixie had nodded vigorously, and here they were. 

Trixie picks up her essentials, which means her guitar, her makeup and some clothes. She’ll come back later to gather the rest of her things. She already looks forward to leaving these grimy walls and the relentless nagging from her neighbour Kyle. He has a bad habit of playing _Dead by Daylight_ on his PlayStation with the volume all the way up at four in the morning. Trixie can understand, _Dead by Daylight_ is a great game, but four o’clock on a Tuesday night? With the sound echoing through the whole building? Really, Kyle? 

When Trixie makes for the elevator to get out on the streets again Peppermint stops her with a hand on her shoulder. 

“Trixie do we have to do that again?” Peppermint’a eyes are pleading, and for a second Trixie wonders if she’s done something terribly wrong. 

“I hate the metro. It’s such an anti-magical place.” 

Trixie almost screeches out a laugh, but she disguises it at her best ability with a weird sneezing sound. Her eyes tear up a bit from the effort. 

“Yeah, ok, how are we gonna-“ 

And then without any notice they’re off into a whirlpool of clouds again with Trixie rolling her eyes at all this impromptu teleporting. 

*** 

Trixie ends up stumbling forward, her worn leather boot hitting a plaster wall with surprisingly much power. So much power that it leaves behind a heart shaped hole, the plaster crumbling at the edges. 

“Oh shit, sorry ‘bout that,” Trixie shakes off some white dust from her boot. “Well, not really, it’s not my fault that you sent me trough time and space."

Peppermint waves away this comment with her hand, at the same time seemingly doing some magic, since the hole in the wall is closing in on itself. 

They’re standing in a plain corridor lined with grey doors at each side. Peppermint leads them to a door with the number 17 on it, and digs out a key from her pocket. 

Apartment number 17 is just as plain as the corridor. 

It has a kitchen, which is completely white, a wooden bed in a bedroom, which is, you guessed it, completely white, and a bathroom which is _completely white_. The lack of colour actually physically affects Trixie, bringing her for a moment back to November days spent in a somber hospital. 

Peppermint must have seen Trixie flinch, because she immediately puts her hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s alright. We can decorate it however you like. I know, it is a lot of white.” 

Trixie is surprised at how well Peppermint understands Trixie, it’s almost like she’s reading her mind. That’s maybe not so unrealistic, though, judging everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours. Peppermint’s hand on Trixie’s shoulder comforts her and she takes a deep breath. 

“Yeah. Let’s make it pink.” 

*** 

Trixie has definitely never had a home decorated this fast.

Peppermint makes all the walls different shades of creamy pink with sweeping motions with her hands, and furniture appears at her will. Trixie wonders where the furniture is coming from, but she doesn’t dare to ask. It seems rather absurd that an apartment can be almost entirely redecorated in an hour, but Trixie doesn’t complain. That would be even more absurd. 

In the living room they put a furry, deep pink couch along with a standing lamp and potted plants. They put shelves, a big closet and a makeup desk in her bedroom. Lastly, the bathroom and kitchen both get shiny, light pink tiles. The kitchen looks especially pretty with the afternoon light coming down from a window in the ceiling. They put a cream coloured dining table in there, and Peppermint now draws a chair and sits down. 

“Now, how’s that for a new apartment?” She says, smiling at Trixie. 

“It’s absolutely lovely. Thank you, Peppermint.” Trixie looks Peppermint in the eye, wishing to express how grateful she really is. 

“I’m happy you like it.” Peppermint takes a look at her watch and gets up from her chair again. 

“I think I’ll get going now Trixie. I can tell you’re really tired. I think you need some time for yourself.” 

Trixie follows Peppermint to the door where she puts on her trench coat that could light up the whole city after sunset.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Trixie?” 

Trixie considers this question for a moment, resting her weight against the doorframe. How can she possibly ask of anything more from Peppermint? Well, there is one thing... 

“Um...this is kinda weird, but- I forgot my PlayStation at my old place and-“ 

“Consider it done,” is the last thing Peppermint says before turning in her high heels and sashaying out of the apartment. 

*** 

After Peppermint has left Trixie’s headache makes a strong comeback. Her mother always tells her to drink water when her head hurts, so she makes her way over to the sink in the kitchen.  
Her mother is the most caring human being she’s ever known. It’s not fair that her daughter should get so sick. Then again cancer isn’t fair. 

Trixie stands by the sink for a while, a glass in her hand, contemplating the events from the recent days. Should she be more shaken by the fact that she’s a witch? It does seem like a big deal, of course. Still she’s somehow not surprised in the slightest. It’s kind of like when she realised she was gay. It just made a lot of sense. She now knows she’s a witch who can do magic, but she’s also a very tired person who needs to listen to some country music and eat some food. 

At that note, Trixie thinks, does she have any food? 

That exact moment a sound she guesses is the doorbell sounds through the apartment.  
That’s a really weird doorbell-sound, though. It actually sounds a little bit like a concerned goat. Weird. She thinks about a goat she used to be really close to back in Milwaukee on her way to the door. Close to? Can you get close to a goat? She felt like she was close to that goat. She told it all about her teenage crushes and heartbreaks, at least.

When she opens the door a feeling of immense joy rushes over her. 

In this moment she’s finally fully convinced she’s a witch.  
There in front of her stands a tall guy in a red cap, and he’s holding a pizza box, and Trixie feels like he’s just proposed to her. 

She actually says “Yes, I will marry you!” while she takes the cardboard box. After paying him she shuts the door and does a random, energetic happy-dance to the living room, where she eats the pizza while blasting First Aid Kit on her headphones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope your day is going well, and if you need some cheering up you're always welcome over at my tumblr! (@predictableplottwist) :)


	3. Dramatic Wind and (Maybe) Believing in Something Makes It Real

Someone must have decided it was really smart to throw Trixie headfirst into this magic-stuff, or so it seems.  
Trixie’s first day of her magical education is already the second day after “The Honey Incident”, and she is very, very nervous. She really understands what it means to feel butterflies where she stands on the metro. The butterflies in her stomach are quite aggressive, though, and it feels like they’re practicing some highly energetic synchronised swimming. 

On the bright side, she is feeling very pretty. She’s wearing a white dress with lace details, a flow-y pink cardigan and some high heeled boots. Her hairs falls down her back in wavy curls, and her eyeshadow matches her cardigan colour just right. 

When she gets out from the metro stop the sky is heavy and grey. Grey weather is the worst weather, in Trixie’s opinion. But she sure knows how to appreciate nice weather. She loves sun, of course, but she also loves rain. Rain is misunderstood.  
The best weather is when it both rains and the sun shines at the same time.  
And grey weather is the worst. 

Trixie finds the school building pretty easily. The facade is just as grey as the sky where it reaches towards the clouds, and it’s a lot bigger than she’d expected. She joins the small flow of people entering the building. Inside she meets a marble hall where a fair amount of people are hurrying here and there. Several staircases lead from the hall, as well as a couple of elevators. Trixie locates a big marble desk in the right corner, and she makes her way toward it. The receptionist has already talked to Peppermint, and she hands Trixie a week schedule and tells her how to get to her first class. 

Her first class is on the 5th floor, in a small room with a way too shiny floor. On her schedule it says _Basic Magic History_. She’s the first one to arrive, so she sits down at one of the empty desks. The rest of the students, the strong four of them, arrive within the next twenty minutes, filling up the empty spaces around her. If Trixie hadn’t been enlightened by Peppermint about the educational system, she would have thought most of the class was stuck home with the flu. 

The course she’s taking is the course all magical people have to take, but since people discover their magic at different moments in their lives this is a very flexible course. Most magical people have other kinds of education as well, and it’s that education that will land you a job, magical or not.  
The sizes of the courses vary from year to year. One course starts off in September, one in January, and Trixie is joining the latter. From what she’s gathered the professors teach different topics, and you read up on the stuff you’ve missed. Which evidently means a couple of months of reading for Trixie. 

The history professor is a woman by the name Mrs. Kasha Davis. She introduces Trixie to the rest of the class before she starts talking about magic people’s influence on medieval art, which is actually kind of interesting, so Trixie takes notes with her pink ballpoint pen, trying to doodle while also getting down some information on the topic. 

*** 

Today is a Wednesday, and her Wednesdays are very short, with only three classes. Her second class is _spells_ , which is taught by a professor named Raja, who is pretty young, but still has grey-ish hair and seems like she’s a little high, but that doesn’t bother Trixie. Raja's cool and mysterious, and also a very good teacher. They spend the class trying to move a paper cup without touching it. They make sort of a game out of it, two people try to push the cup towards the other person’s side of the desk. Trixie’s paired with a girl named Aja, who is really nice, but not very good at paper cup-telekinesis. Half of the class Trixie’s pleased with herself for managing to move the paper cup towards Aja, and the rest of the time she’s laughing at the way Aja stares intensely at the cup, her brows furrowed. Luckily she doesn’t seem offended by Trixie laughing at her, she’s a little annoyed at herself, but she laughs along too. 

*** 

Her very last class of the day is with a private tutor, where they’re going to try to figure out her so-called gift. She’s going to meet her tutor in the cellar of the building, so she is very grateful there’s an elevator. Yes, of course she can walk in heels, but 6 floors on those slippery-ass marble stairs? No thanks. 

She’s the only one left in the elevator when the doors finally slide open on the lowest floor. Beyond the elevator is a huge room that looks hauntingly similar to her old high school gym.  
The floor is made of this weird plastic material that Trixie recalls gave her a more than a fair amount of burns while dodging curveballs from her testosterone-jock classmates back in the day. At least it’s easy to walk across. 

The room is filled with people, most of them in pairs, doing all sorts of crazy things.  
Among them are two middle aged women who are moving their hands along the wall of the gym, making a poison ivy plant creep upwards toward the ceiling. Trixie has to stop herself from laughing as she passes an old man crouching on the ground, looking very, very eccentric where he’s talking to a squirrel. The man and the squirrel seem to be engaged in a discussion, Trixie can hear the man saying something about the rainforest, and at that point Trixie swears she must have gone crazy too. 

“Hey Trixie! Trixie Mattel! Hey! Mattel! Over here!” 

Trixie hears someone calling her name, but she can’t see where from, so she sweeps her eyes across the room. 

“Miss Trixie, hey girl, you blind?” 

Finally Trixie spots him. A short man in glasses and long braids is waving his arms frantically at her from where he’s standing, merely ten feet from her.  
Trixie tries not to look like she just overheard a conversation between an old guy and a squirrel as she walks over to the man. When she’s come over he ignores the hand she’s reached out for him to shake and pulls her into a tight hug.  
She’s a little uncomfortable with hugging strangers, but she’s had more rattling experiences the past days. When he lets go he smiles at her and introduces himself; 

“I’m Jaidynn, and you may call me Jaidynn. Simple as that, Miss Mattel.” 

Trixie doesn’t know exactly what to say to this so she just smiles, wrapping her cardigan around herself. 

“Okay, we got a practice space right over there,” Jaidynn points to the far back of the hall, “so, just follow me.” 

Jaydinn walks surprisingly fast, despite his short legs, and Trixie has to concentrate intensely not to run into anyone while trying to keep up his speed. They stop at an empty space besides a pretty Asian woman about Trixie’s age and a young boy, who can’t be any older than fifteen. The woman is shaking her head, looking slightly frustrated. The boy’s half-long, dark hair is rising and falling, like it’s getting lifted by the breeze. At a second glance, Trixie realises, it actually is lifted by the breeze. 

“No, Brian, I’m sorry, but that’s just not it. I was saying wind machine realness, not- “ The woman scrunches up her nose, “whatever this is.” 

Trixie thinks it’s impressive that she manages to say “wind machine realness” while looking this serious. Suddenly the woman spots Jaidynn, and the boy lets his hair fall over his shoulders once again. 

“Trixie, this is Jujubee, she’s a “teacher of the wind”,” Jaidynn says, making a dramatic motion that’s probably meant to resemble wind, but looks more like a weird worm-wave crossover. 

Jujubee’s short, black hair bounces on her shoulders as she smiles and waves at Trixie. 

“You can call me Juju! And yes, I am a “teacher of the wind”,” she says in the same dramatic voice as Jaidynn, her hair blowing back, giving full wind machine realness. Trixie can actually feel the wind across her cheek, which is an odd sensation to feel inside a dingy old gym. The smell in the room sends old memories spinning through Trixie’s mind. Jumping jacks and way too many laps around the gym. Getting hit on by a guy with greasy hair at prom while pining over her crush, who was sadly very, very straight. Still, there’s a chance she’s- 

“Mattel, where are you? We’ve got to start practicing!” Jaidynn waves her hand in front of Trixie’s eyes and brings her out of her reverie. 

They have to test several things out, apparently, and the thing that comes the easiest to Trixie, is her gift. Something like that. 

“To start off easy” as Jaidynn says, Jaidynn gives Trixie a match. 

“Make it burn,” he says, smiling expectantly. 

“If you give me a matchbox I am 97% sure I can make it burn.” 

“A witch doesn’t need a matchbox, girl!” 

Trixie then stares at the match, waiting for something to happen. She managed to make the cup move, so she must have some potential. But nothing happens. Jaidynn tells her to keep focusing on the match, but it’s so boring. It’s just a match, for God’s sake. She wonders how they make matches. They’re so perfectly shaped. Like, that’s a really tiny piece of wood. Oh wow. How much time does it take to make a match by hand?  
Suddenly the match catches fire, but perhaps a little more fire than intended. It looks more like a torch, actually, but it only lasts long enough for Jaidynn to swear loudly before it blows out. The flame has left a trail of ash down Jaidynn’s arm, and Trixie stares at it for a while, a little surprised. 

“That is not your gift, Mattel.” 

*** 

They try several things after this.

They try growing a plant, which dies, Trixie tries to move some water, but that just evaporates. She tries to heal a small cut on Jaidynn’s hand, but to no luck. She tries to make Jaidynn fall asleep, but he stays bright awake. At one point Jaidynn even brings over the squirrel for Trixie to talk to, but it only stares at her with its beady, black eyes.

“No, no. No. That’s not-“ Juju must be done teaching Brian, because now she’s standing besides Jaidynn, giving a major facepalm as Trixie in vain tries to yield the wind, “that’s not it, dear.” 

Trixie’s groans and drops down to the floor in front of the fan she just tried to make spin. Jaidynn and Juju follow her suit and sit down opposite her. 

“Well, those are the most common gifts, but there are many more, Trixie. Don’t give up just yet. That would be a really bad move.” Jaidynn smiles and grabs her hand, just for a second. Juju smiles too, and both their smiles are incredibly cute. Together they make a very strong cute-smile duo. 

“Okay, let’s try this one, Trixie. How many siblings do I have?” Juju leans forward, grabbing the fan of the floor. 

Trixie sighs and scratches her head. “I really like you guys, but how the hell am I supposed to know how may siblings you’ve got?” 

Juju makes the fan blow so fast Trixie can only see the tiny circle in the middle. 

“If you’re an intuist you can tell things like this. Like if I say I’m from Miami, you can tell if I’m lying. Am I from Miami, Trixie?” 

Trixie tries, she really does, to tell if Juju’s from Miami or not, but she has no idea. She shakes her head and blows a strand of hair out of her face. 

“I don’t have a clue,” she says, which leaves a disappointed look on Juju’s face. 

She pouts and says “what a shame, intuists are really cool.” 

“What are they called, the ones that can make rainbows appear?” Jaidynn says as he grabs the fan from Juju and blows at it, resulting in it stirring feebly. 

“Gays,” Juju sticks her tongue out at Jaidynn as a rainbow appears over her head. 

Trixie pictures a rainbow over her own head and it appears as well. Jaidynn does the same. 

“At least I have the gift of gay,” Trixie says. 

*** 

Trixie finds her way to the AQW+ pretty easily after she’s finished with Jaidynn (and Juju), and the weird, crooked house looks just the same as it did two days ago.  
Jinkx, who seems a little distant today, meets her by the entrance of the house, and she shows Trixie to a room on the second floor. Jinkx says something about Trixie needing a light job today, at which Trixie responds with a slightly sarcastic “you think so?”, when she stops beside a door. a door. A little kitten is painted on the door, and underneath it someone has written "Pussies ;)” with a marker. 

This seems to annoy Jinkx, as she mutters “Again? Vandalism, Katya, this is not what I needed right now,” under her breath, while walking away from the door, leaving Trixie standing there. Jinkx must be pretty tired, Trixie thinks, opening the door. 

Katya may have vandalised, but at least she didn’t lie. The room Trixie enters is full of soft pillows, blankets, cat toys and kittens.

There are four of them, two of them looking up at Trixie as she enters. She smiles to herself. She’s really soft for kittens. They look like furry little pompoms. What a nice surprise. 

By a window on the wall opposite her is an armchair, and she makes her way toward it, greeting the kittens on her way. As they rub themselves against her hand she notices that they’re a little bit different than normal kittens. Their eyes and ears are a little bit bigger, and their fur has a special shine to it, it’s glittering. 

Trixie sits down in the armchair, and the kittens follow her gladly. She must be a kitten-whisperer. A glitter-kitten-whisperer. What a title. 

The kittens purr loudly as she pets them, blinking their eyes slowly. On a small table beside the armchair lies a note, handwritten in spiky letters. Trixie picks it up, feeling a little nosey, but then again if you leave your personal notes in a kitten room, you’re asking for it. Turns out it’s not very personal at all. The note reads: “ _Newest kitten found behind Walmart, the one with the purple eyes. He’s a keeper. You guys name him. I’ve stocked more food in the storage. -Sharon_ ” 

Trixie rubs the head of the purple eyed kitten, wondering how he ended up behind a Walmart. She says, “We’re gonna name you Kitten. That’s a great name.” 

*** 

In lack of any instructions on what she should do, Trixie finds the food stock this Sharon-cat-lady talked about, and feeds the kittens. She also refills their water. She tries to refill the water with magic, which she feels like she should be able to do, but it doesn’t work. 

And she thinks about Katya. It’s weird how you can meet someone one time and just be completely overwhelmed by them. Is Katya in the building right now? 

Someone knocks softly at the door, and Trixie calls out “come in” from where she’s sitting on the floor. A very familiar face and some very familiar perfectly white hair is standing in the doorway. 

“Max? What the heck?” 

***  
“When Jinkx mentioned your name the other day- Well, I figured there aren’t that many Trixie Mattels in this world,” Max says, straightening out her already straight black skirt where she’s sat down close to Trixie. She looks up at Trixie, smiling a little. “You okay, Tracy?” 

Trixie huffs out a laugh at the mention of her old nickname. 

“Yeah, sure. Not only am I a witch, but my ex from college is also a witch.” 

Max laughs, and they’re both silent for a while, the kittens climbing on their legs, their paws tickling Trixie’s thighs. Max and Trixie broke up some years back, on friendly terms, but it’s still weird for Trixie to see her here, especially under these weird circumstances. 

“You work in law? Not surprising, obviously,” Trixie says, breaking the silence. 

“Well, yes,” Max says while repositioning a lock of pearly white hair, “I’m an intuist.” 

“Really? That sounds really cool,” Trixie smiles an nods in what she hopes is an acknowledging way. 

Max smiles too, but the awkward silence between them returns. After a while Max bites her lip, looking like she’s mulling over something in her head. 

“I-um, I heard about Jess. I’m happy she’s doing well now. I-hm- The worst part is over now, right? You’re doing all right?” 

Trixie picks up Kitten, who is meowing like crazy. 

“If I say I’m completely fine, you can tell I’m lying, can’t you?” 

Max catches Trixie’s eyes and says “Yeah.” 

They sit like that for a while, the silence a lot less awkward now. Eventually Max has to go, she’s “got work to do”, and she gives Trixie a hug before she leaves. She smells like she used to, which is nice. When she reaches the doorway, she looks back at Trixie, smiles and says “I’m here whenever you need it, Tracy.” 

*** 

After Max has left, Trixie’s legs seem like they’ve got a plan for where to go. They move without her thinking about it after she’s made sure everything’s fine for the kittens. They take her up the staircase, moving carefully, but purposely. Before her mind’s caught up with her legs she’s standing in the middle of Krisis Kontrol, staring at the jungle surrounding Katya’s office. 

“Great, the insurance covers it. I’ll have them get in touch. No problem, bye.” 

Shea is the only other person in the room, and Trixie turns around to face her as she puts down the phone she just talked through.  
Shea raises an eyebrow, looking at Trixie where she’s standing in Katya’s corner of the room. 

“She’s not here,” Shea says. Then she points upward, another phone starting to ring. She picks up the phone while mouthing “the attic”, sending Trixie off on her way. 

***

Katya's opening her eyes slowly. She's sitting on a big, rough stone, looking out at a huge valley covered by tropical trees, like a blanket of many shades of green. In the middle of the valley a river runs, the deep blue water reflecting the sun when it's not covered by a cloud. Katya feels the breeze brushing her cheeks. Not too warm, not too cold. She focuses her concentration on that. The feel of the wind like a touch from a loved one. 

She doesn’t lose her concentration, even when a soft knock echoes somewhere on her left. She takes a deep breath, wishing she could be alone a little longer. She loves people, but she as a sensitive person needs time alone, to process everyday life. She calls for the person to enter anyhow.  
The sky on her left side opens up, a square of blue folding in towards her. 

“Holy shit!” 

Trixie has just entered Katya’s surroundings, clearly not expecting meeting her on a cliff in the Andes. For some reason, Katya is surprised to discover, she no longer has the need to be alone. 

“Oh wow,” Trixie says as she takes a look at the green valley. 

She looks really pretty where she’s making her way towards her, trying to find balance with her high heeled boots on the uneven rock. Katya feels a weird emotion, a surge of energy, when she looks at her. She just met this woman a few days ago. Still, her surroundings feel oddly complete with this soft, pink Trixie-ness in them. Which startles Katya a little bit. 

“Hi- I-um -I didn’t mean to barge in. Uh- I just… you-“ Trixie stops herself in the middle of her sentence, “Um- where are we?” 

Trixie sits down gingerly beside her. 

“We’re still where you were thirty seconds ago, but we’re also kind of not. We’re here. I’m- I was- meditating.” 

"I'm sorry that I interrupted you-I..." Trixie says, again seemingly at a loss of words. She leans her weight back on her hands, and squints at the sun.  
"I really don't know why I came here." 

Katya looks at Trixie, a little bit impressed at her ability to be that honest. Katya has no idea why she came here either. But she wants her here, beside her.  
Katya sure ain’t looking for romance. Not after her last heartbreak.  
Yet she's drawn towards this beautiful, curvy girl with her blonde curls. 

"You just conjure these things?" Trixie asks, indicating the trees and mountains around them. Her fingernails are painted a metallic colour, and it reflects the sun like silverware on a summer day. 

"Well, yes, I guess. But then no. But yes and no are such final answers. Don't you think? Maybe I'm conjuring them, ok. That's a possibility. That they’re not really here. And then there's the possibility that nothing's ever quite real. You know what I mean? Yeah, you know. Or maybe the things I conjure are the only things that are real. Or maybe if we believe things, they simply are real." 

With a flick of her hand Katya procures a bright, pink bird. The bird flaps its wings and chirps at Trixie. Trixie smiles a half-smile with her pink lips and blows a kiss at the bird.  
"Yeah," Trixie says, and looks at Katya, her chestnut eyes filled with both humour and seriousness, "maybe if we believe things, they simply are real." 

*** 

 

"There's a new kitten in the kitten room," Trixie says in a low voice where she now lays on her back, her hair around her head like a blonde halo.  
"Ah, a new pussycat. What a delight," Katya says in her psycho doctor voice, trying to divert her eyes from Trixie's curves, trying to be a proper lady. It doesn't work very well.

Trixie squints at the sun and says “I named him.” 

“Okay. What’d you name him?” Katya says, wondering where this is going. 

“Never mind. I don’t want to tell you,” she says, smiling and looking like she’s trying not to laugh. Which of course makes Katya want to know. 

“No. Tell me. You’ve got to tell me.”  
Trixie shakes her head, still at the verge of laughter. 

“You’ve got to tell me,” Katya says through gritted teeth, grabbing Trixie’s leg. 

Trixie giggles and hides her face in her hands. She actually giggles, like stereotypical teenage girl giggling. 

"What's the cat's name? What's the cat's name?!" Katya presses on, shaking Trixie's leg. 

"The cat's name- I called it-" Trixie laughs while she goes on, "I called it Kitten." 

Katya wheeze-laughs and shakes her hands to get out her energy. Katya's laugh mingles with Trixie's till she ends up coughing, tears in her eyes. 

"Katya?" Trixie pokes her, her smile still big. "The bird. Can we call it Birdie?"


	4. Neighbours and Bad Analogies

The first time Trixie meets one of her neighbours is the Friday after “The Honey Incident”. She locks herself into the apartment complex after a long day of classes, the air stuffy and warm thanks to the April sun, her hands screaming under the weight of some heavy grocery bags. The door of apartment 16 is propped open, and Trixie can see neat rows of shoes lined up in the hallway, a couple of combat boots the only ones thrown randomly around. A waft of sweet smelling smoke hits Trixie as she unlocks her own door, throwing off her jacket as she enters her apartment. 

She dumps the grocery bags on the counter in the kitchen and starts to unpack the bags, weirded out by things she can’t remember buying. How on Earth is she supposed to need a cucumber peeler? Is it even necessary to peel cucumbers?  
She’s got a song stuck in her head, something Katya sang while they were sitting on that rock two days ago. She doesn’t know the name of the song, which annoys her, she only remembers the sentences Katya sang. “All the girls at the party, look at that body,” she sings loudly while stacking tea and cereal in the cupboard. Singing when no one is listening is probably Trixie's favourite hobby. 

When she gets out of the shower later, in her bathrobe, a towel wrapped around her head, the goat-doorbell rings. In front of her door stands a woman with intense eyes and a high bun, holding a plate of brownies. She must be in her thirties, and she smiles at Trixie, her dimples deep. It's a pretty intense smile.

“You look like you need brownies,” she says, raising her eyebrows and thrusting the brownies into Trixie’s hands. 

Trixie raises her eyebrows right back, staring at the woman. 

“Yeah, yeah, get dressed and get your ass over here,” she says, turning and crossing the threshold to apartment 16. 

*** 

“I’m Bianca.” 

Trixie sits at the arm of a chair in Bianca’s living room, her hair still damp where it hangs over her shoulders. On the couch are two other people, a little younger than Bianca perhaps, involved in a hardcore make out session, apparently oblivious to the fact that Trixie’s now sitting here. 

“Yeah that’s Adore and Courtney. They’re stupid, but they can sing,” Bianca says, laughing out in her deep voice. 

***  
Bianca, Adore and Courtney are, from what Trixie gathers, quite the trio. They’re all magic people, in close contact with the AQW+, Adore and Courtney both being pan and genderfluid, going by any pronouns. Bianca owns the apartment, but Adore and Courtney basically live here as well. When they’re home, that is. They travel a lot, some apart, but mostly together. They perform, but they’re also involved with business. Something involving theatre. And something involving wigs. And something involving sewing. It seems complicated. 

“It’s complicated,” Courtney says from where she's sitting on the couch, having a break from all the making out. 

Bianca has gone over to the kitchen on the look for some wine. Adore has gone over to the window and is now lighting up a joint. They light it up with a match, without a matchbox, which reminds Trixie of Jaidynn telling her "a witch doesn't need a matchbox" the other day. He was right about that. 

Bianca's apartment looks like one of those typical sitcom apartments- brick walls, brightly coloured furniture and those narrow windows you push upwards. It's just as warm in here as in the rest of the apartment complex, but sharp spring air is seeping through the window Adore has opened. 

"Are you a red, white or rosé kind of girl?" Bianca shouts from the kitchen. 

"What do you think, Linda? Do I look like an intellectual? I'm just kidding, but, still, please bring the rosé," Trixie answers. 

Bianca comes back with some bottles of rosé and three high-end, fancy wineglasses. Trixie can't help but say, "ah. Real glasses means you've got your life together," which makes Adore and Courtney laugh and shake their heads. 

"Hey," Bianca says, pointing at the two of them, "my life's about ten times more together than yours. Which equals not very together, but still." 

Bianca puts the glasses and the wine down at a table in front of the couch, and Trixie sits down besides Courtney. A small pop sounds when Bianca opens the wine bottle, the sound of glass against glass loud as she pours. 

"Now who are you?" Courtney says, putting on an extra heavy Australian accent and raising her eyebrows. 

"Tell us about you!" Adore shouts from where they sit on the windowsill, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. 

"I'm a lesbian from Milwaukee who likes to play music, do makeup, eat, breathe and sleep," Trixie gives her practiced answer she knows by heart from meeting a lot of new people back in college, accompanied by an overly done pageant girl smile. 

Bianca, who is now sitting at the other end of the small table, waves her hands and grabs one of the now filled wine glasses. "Yeah, sure, and that's all good and well. But that's thought out. That's clever and all. Who are you by default?" 

That makes Trixie think. Who is she by default? By default she feels way too much and says the exact wrong things. But by default she’s also a caring person her friends can confide in. She gets bad anxiety, compares herself to others. Can’t help but feel bad when her tweets get an impressive two likes. But she can also have unlimited confidence, not doubting her own decisions in the slightest. 

Trixie grabs a wine glass and says, “a mess.” 

“Cheers to that!” Bianca says, raising her own glass in a toast, “to being a mess!” 

Courtney takes a big sip of wine before saying, “to being human!” 

*** 

Trixie spends the evening in apartment 16, drinking wine, talking, and eating the Vietnamese food they eventually order. At one point, around 2AM, Adore brings out a guitar, and now they're singing a song Trixie recognises that must have come out when she was really young. She remembers listening to when she was 14, when she realised how great music really was. Trixie thinks it's by Maroon 5, and she recalls listening to it in the car with her mom and her brother while they were driving Trixie step class. 

"I don't mind spending every day, out on the corner in the pouring rain, oh," Adore sings, their voice both soft and rough at the same time. Trixie sings along, tapping a slow rhythm on her leg. 

It's a beautiful song. Sad, but still hopeful.  
When Adore's done they reach the guitar toward Trixie, raising their eyebrow, like asking if she wants to take it. She does. It feels good and familiar to hold the guitar, and she plucks some strings, feeling them vibrate under her fingertips. 

"Wait- which song is this? I can't get it out of my head!" Trixie says, and sings the lines Katya sang the other day, playing what she thinks are the right chords along with it. 

"Janet Jackson, innit?" Courtney says, "All for You?" 

"Yes!" Trixie exclaims, Courtney already singing the next lines. She remembers a lot of it, and they end up singing the whole song. 

After that it ends up being quite the 00’s party, Trixie playing _Halo_ and _I’m Yours_ and Adore shouting “Avril Lavigne!” Which sends them off to a road with _Sk8er Boi, Girlfriend_ and Trixie eventually going to bed in her own apartment after Bianca has been shouting "Mm- watcha sa-ay" hoarsely for a little too long. 

*** 

Trixie can’t really blame Kim for being a little mad after she’s rung her 14 times without Trixie even replying with a text. Kim’s pretty used to it by now, but going under the ground for almost a week is over the top, even for Trixie. This grants Trixie a stone cold look when Kim lets her into her flat on Saturday afternoon. Luckily Kim and Naomi’s flat is Trixie’s second home, because Kim certainly doesn’t bother with standing politely by Trixie as she takes off her jacket. She pads away in her furry socks, and Trixie pictures one of those stormy clouds from cartoons hovering over her head. 

“I’m a bad best friend I’m sorry!” Trixie calls after her. 

She loosens up when Trixie tells her about all the things that have happened the past days, although she’s highly sceptical. Naomi, who’s currently eating chilli fries while both reading a magazine and painting her toenails, doesn’t seem very surprised. 

“Yeah, I dated a witch back in college. Sasha,” Naomi says, “and her ex-boyfriend. We were all three a thing at some point, actually. Sparks were flying. Literally. There was one time-“ 

“Okay, spare us the details, please,” Kim says. 

You dated Sasha?” Trixie asks, thinking that there’s probably not that many Sashas in the magical population. 

Naomi nods and smiles one of those “didn’t I just say that”-smiles, understandably enough. 

“Nice, let’s get over this “we both know Sasha”-party. You’ve got to win me over. I am not convinced, Trixie.” Kim says, her lisp strong. Trixie could listen to Kim's voice for days, because it feels like warmth and love and home. Which sounds like a cliché, but it does feel just like that. 

Trixie hasn’t got unlimited tricks up her sleeve just yet, so she sticks with the rainbow appearing-thing. Kim's not very impressed, but she shrugs, like she's at least willing to believe it. Naomi gives her an applause and a whistle. 

"You go interior shopping with me, I buy you food, deal?" Trixie asks, locking Kim in a tight hug. 

Kim grunts, but she hugs her back. 

_***_

It takes Kim about one hour to get ready to go. Trixie nags and complains that "nobody cares if she has a perfect cat eye", at which Kim responds with "I care," which is a very good response, and of course one only needs to do makeup for oneself, but Trixie is very impatient. 

Trixie met Kim her first year in college, when Kim was a sophomore, and they clicked right away. The next year they became roommates and since then it's been the two of them. They could disagree, but they would always choose each other's side over everyone else. It's nice, Trixie thinks, to know that she's got Kim, who won't stop being friends with her because of some stupid quarrel here or there. 

Naomi's also a good friend of Trixie's, but she hasn't known her for that long. Naomi and Kim met in beauty school, and now they're friends and they both work for the same makeup company. Trixie's really happy for them, that they're living their dream. Although she until recently had that dream too, she really is happy for them. She tries to be unfailingly happy for them, but it's hard. That's part of being human, though. 

When they finally leave the apartment, Kim's looking incredible, and Trixie's incredibly hungry. 

"You're starving me, woman! Someone, send help!" Trixie wails as they walk from the apartment, dragging Kim by the hand. 

"Shut up, stupid," Kim says, rolling her eyes at Trixie, but smiling. 

The smile drives Trixie on, of course, and she wails all the way to the Korean restaurant, which is only five minutes away, but it's time enough for Kim to get annoyed. Mission accomplished, Trixie thinks. 

_***_

"Your love life has suddenly improved after one week of not talking to me? Does wonders, that does, ignoring me," Kim says, mixing her bibimbap expertly with her chopsticks. 

"Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I really am. You know I have a gift for overchecking twitter and not communicating. And for the record, my love life hasn't evolved dramatically, but I have met who must be the prettiest, craziest, and most interesting woman on this earth," Trixie says, picking up some pieces of bulgogi, focusing on balancing it between the chopsticks. 

"I swear you said that at one point last month too," Kim says, and Trixie shrugs, thinking that that's probably true, "by the way you suck ass at using chopsticks." 

Trixie looks down at her plate, realizing that she lost all the bulgogi pieces while doing that shrug. 

"I really am not that bad at using chopsticks! I eat Asian food all the time!" 

Kim laughs and says, "Yeah, sure, okay, tell me more about this miraculous woman." 

Trixie fills her in, a little reluctantly at first, because a crush always seems more serious when you tell someone about it. Still, she tells Kim everything, so it would be weird not to tell her about Katya too. 

Kim's the most patient friend in the world, and she proves that once again as she keeps listening to Trixie's ongoing pining over Katya on their whole shopping trip. She only stops her to say "yes, that comforter is very you" and "no, you don't need a decorative turkey". 

*** 

The next week goes by quite smoothly, although there are a few bumps in the road. Her classes, although they're a whole new territory compared to makeup school, are working out well, and at the AQW+ she gets to try out a lot of different jobs. Jinkx calls her "the intern" sometimes, which seems to describe what she's doing quite well. 

That Thursday she's organizing the shelfs in the stock room in the basement when Sasha comes hurrying in. She's wearing something black and so sparkly that it shines even in the dimly lit room. She looks concentrated, like she's looking for something. That something probably wasn't Trixie, since she seems pretty surprised to see her. 

"Yes, it is I, master of the stock room, Trixie Mattel, how may I be of service?" Trixie jokes and waves a wax candle she's holding in an overly decadent manner. 

Sasha doesn't seem like she's in the mood for jokes, and she walks around the dingy room with quick steps, letting her hand trail across the dusty shelves. Trixie just goes on stocking the candles, trying to get them into a neat row. There are a lot of wax candles in this storage room. How many wax candles do they burn a day? Too many, probably. 

"Fuck!" Sasha swears as she knocks down a box of incense. 

Trixie picks it up and puts it back on the shelf, giving Sasha a puzzled look. 

"I can't find any," Sasha says, mostly to herself it seems, and she drags a hand over her bare head. 

"Trixie," she suddenly says, as if she just remembered Trixie was there, "are you good with children?" 

_***_

Ten minutes later Trixie's standing in a room full of spiders, holding a frightened toddler, who's crying and clinging on to Trixie. 

Sasha's trying to comfort a teenager who seems to be in shock, while Katya's waving her hands, probably attempting to make the spiders disappear, but not to much luck yet. The toddler in Trixie's arms wails and Trixie hushes him, wiping a tear from his face. 

"Sasha, get them out of here, will you? They're upset enough already!" Katya shouts at Sasha, and she's snapping her fingers now, sparks flying from them. The spiders scatter, and cover the walls with tiny, black dots. 

"Yeah, sure, except she's in shock and we can't teleport a toddler!" Sasha says, gently guiding the teenager to where Trixie's standing. The girl just stares straight in front of her, her dark bangs hanging over her eyes. 

"Trixie, I know this is a lot to ask, but could you take the toddler with you to the AQW+ in a cab? We can't teleport him, you see, and I've got to teleport her," Sasha says, indicating the teen, "is that okay?" 

Trixie nods and carries the crying toddler out of the building. 

*** The toddler is still crying while they're in the cab, and the cab driver gives Trixie a sympathetic smile in the rearview mirror. Perhaps she thinks the toddler's Trixie's. He does look a little like Trixie; blonde hair, brown eyes and a sorta-round face. 

Trixie pats his hair slowly, and her maternal instinct kicks in, so she starts singing, which may not be all that maternal, but it's what her mother would do. 

" _My coat of many colors, that my momma made for me. Made only from rags, but I wore it so proudly,_ " Trixie sings, keeping her voice down so she doesn't annoy the driver. The toddler sniffs a couple of times, before he falls asleep out of nowhere, his breathing slowing down. 

*** 

"He just fell asleep?" Sasha asks when Trixie sits down on the velvet sofa she sat on the day of "The Honey Incident", the sleeping toddler still in her arms. Katya's sitting in the arm chair while Sasha walks around the circular room, lighting up the wax candles. 

"Yeah, like he was drugged or something," Trixie replies, and she notices to her surprise that Katya stiffens a little in her seat. 

Sasha coughs subtly as Katya rises from the chair and disappears, leaving behind a tiny puffy cloud. Trixie turns to look at Sasha with a puzzled look. 

"She's had some bad experiences with drugs," Sasha says, blowing out a match, "uhm- she probably went to see if Peppermint needs any help with the teenager or something." 

Trixie instantly regrets making that drug comment. Isn't that the first rule of communication? Know your audience? Cancer analogies don't land very well on her. She should know better. Well, she guesses she does know better now. 

*** 

Katya doesn't seem like she's holding a grudge against Trixie when she meets her that Sunday. Trixie walks through the unusually quiet corridors of the AQW+, looking for Jinkx, who she's going to talk through her pay check formalities with. Which is about maybe the most boring thing Trixie can imagine spending a Sunday doing, and also, can't magic people just magically make all that pay check-stuff work? 

Trixie wanders through the rooms on the first floor looking for Jinkx when she hears singing coming from one of the doors. Someone is singing, kind of off key, a weird tune that doesn’t sound like a song, really. Not any song Trixie knows at least. Trixie opens the door, wondering if the person singing may help her find Jinkx. The room is some kind of bathroom, more like a locker room. The walls are tiled and white, and steam is coming from a separate room where Trixie guesses the showers must be. 

"Hello?" Trixie asks, the walls echoing a little back at her. 

The sound of singing is replaced by a sound of wet feet padding over the floor, and Katya steps out of the showers, wearing only a towel. No one ever tells you that walking in on someone showering is a lot less glamorous than it seems in the movies. In reality it's mostly focusing on not staring at Katya's very toned arms and getting words out in the right order. 

"I- uh, sorry I was looking for Jinkx, do you?" Trixie says. 

"Do I what? I don't know where she is, if that's what you're trying to say. Her office is through the door opposite this one," Katya says, smiling and rubbing at her hair with another towel. 

"Thanks," Trixie says, walking out of the room quickly to avoid any further embarrassment. 

*** 

Trixie finds Jinkx in her office, which is a simple, pretty dark, room, with a deep brown desk and heavy curtains hanging over the window. They finish within half an hour, Jinkx being effective and all business in her motherly way, and Trixie letting her eyes wander all over the room. On the walls are framed pictures, and Trixie studies them curiously. There are pictures with a lot of different people, and Trixie notices a few with Katya in them. She appears quite often actually, and in some of them Trixie can swear Katya's a teenager. The same strong cheekbones and energetic smile, just younger. She must have been a witch for some time. 

"Speak of the sun and it will shine," Trixie thinks when she meets Katya, just after she's finished with Jinkx, where she's standing in the corridor. She can't help but wonder if she waited for her, and she can almost hear Kim's voice in her head, telling her she gets hardcore crushes way too fast. 

"Trixie, would you please walk nowhere with me?" Katya asks, leaning against the wall, "I mean, walk with me, going nowhere?" 

"Actually, my plan usually is to go nowhere, but I think I can squeeze you in," Trixie answers, setting off out of the house, hoping to appear nonchalant, but also looking over her shoulder several times to make sure Katya's still following her. 

Outside the weather is mild, but the wind has an edge to it, and it flushes Katya's cheeks as they walk. She's only wearing a long-sleeved top and yoga pants, and Trixie worries that she's going to freeze her arms of, but Katya only says, "nah, I'm like that girl in that Disney movie, you know, with the sparkly dress?" 

"Elsa?" Trixie replies, raising an eyebrow at her, or trying to, that is, "the lesbian icon from the epic movie _Frozen_?" 

That makes Katya laugh, and she sounds like an old smoker, but in the best way possible. 

They turn left at a crossing and Trixie says, "you've known Jinkx for a long time?" 

"Mhm," Katya replies, "she's basically my second mother. My family's great, though, but it sure doesn't hurt having a someone like Jinkx to rely on." 

"I saw you in some of her pictures, you looked very young," Trixie says, without giving herself time to overthink whether she should say it or not. 

Katya's hair is just short enough for the wind to keep on messing it around, and she tucks it behind her ears, says, "Yes, my incident was when I was about 18. Well, the first one. The major one." 

She grabs Trixie's hand for a second, leading her across the street, and Trixie can feel her heart beating down to her fingertips. 

"I don't know why, but I've had a lot of severe anxiety. I haven't had any traumatic experiences, really, but still," Katya furrows her brow, "you saw my gift the other day. And it's amazing, but when your brain isn't working right, it's not. It's very, very not. And that led to some more shit. There has been a lot of shit." 

Trixie feels a droplet hit her forehead and when she looks up, the sky is filled with heavy, dark clouds, looming over them. 

"I think it's beginning to rain," Trixie says, stating the obvious. 

Katya nods, and says, "You wanna go inside somewhere?" 

Trixie stops walking and looks at Katya, "I don't really mind walking in the rain. Rain is misunderstood. But if you get cold, I'd rather we go inside somewhere!" 

Katya holds up her arms, as if embracing the rain, singing very off-key "the cold never bothered me any way!" 

Trixie can't help but smile. There's a lot of joy in understanding something that's commonly misunderstood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you've read this far I hereby adopt you. you may consider yourself adopted. plz talk to me!! (here or over at my tumblr, @predictableplottwist) i will throw you a tea party and write you slam poetry if you do!! <3


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